


good

by helsinkibaby



Category: FBI (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Fictober 2019, Fluff, Het, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 01:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21218621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Kristen makes breakfast.





	good

**Author's Note:**

> For day 13 I never knew it could be like this. (Slightly altered!)

“So, I can’t find my shirt... you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” 

Kristen turned her head slowly, glancing over her shoulder as she put down the whisk, deciding the eggs could wait. She knew Jubal already knew why he couldn’t find his shirt, being as she was currently wearing it, hence the amused note in his voice, the amused half smile that graced his lips. 

She loved that look on his face, loved that she was the one who put it there. 

“This?” Her voice was all innocence, her movements anything but. She pulled at the hem, the action making two things abundantly clear, the first that she’d only done up a couple of buttons, the second that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “Is it yours?” 

Jubal’s lips twitched, even as something else flickered in his eyes. It was the kind of look that made her want to forget about breakfast altogether. “There’s a joke somewhere about me having to arrest you and cuff you,” he said, stepping towards her and she tried her best to hide her shiver. “But since you’re having to look at me half naked, I figure you’ve been punished enough.” 

Thinking it anything but a punishment, she grinned at that, meeting him halfway across her tiny kitchen and hooking her fingers through the belt loop of his pants. She pulled him closer and he didn’t exactly resist, cupping her face in his hands and bringing his lips to hers. Her hands moved to slide around her waist, up his back and she sighed into the kiss, her eyes fluttering shut. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that - it could have been minutes, it could have been hours - but he was the one who broke the kiss, grinning at the whimper of disappointment that came, unbidden, from the back of her throat. His hands slid down her back, lazy and slow, as he kissed the top of her head. “This is an apology for stealing my shirt? You making me breakfast?” 

Kristen glanced over her shoulder at the bowl on the counter, the skillet all ready on the stove top. “It’s just scrambled eggs,” she said. Then, with a shrug and a bit of her lip, looking up at him through her lashes because she knew that drove him crazy, “I figured you need to keep your strength up.” 

Teasing she might have been but there was many a true word spoken in jest and Jubal knew that, laughed out loud, his shoulders shaking as he stepped away from her, heading to the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of orange juice. Reaching up, he took two glasses from the cabinet nearest to him, poured them both a glass as she moved to the stove and flicked it on. 

She was busy scrambling the eggs, keeping a close eye on them when she felt two arms go around her waist, felt him rest his chin on top of her head. His bare chest was warm against her back and she risked the eggs for just a moment, leaning back against him and letting him support her weight. 

When he spoke, his voice was so quiet that she wasn’t sure he’d actually meant to speak out loud. “This is good, right?” She twisted in his arms, not enough to break his hold, but enough so that she could see his face. This time, the grin he gave her was almost embarrassed. “You and me... like this. It’s good, right?” 

Kristen felt a smile coming to her face at this different side to Jubal. She was used to Jubal the ASAC, the confident FBI agent who ran the JOC like a Swiss watch, barking orders at everyone and never missing a beat. Jubal in a relationship though, with third degree burns over the end of his marriage, guilt over what he’d put his wife and kids through... that was a different matter. “Yeah,” she said, nodding, meaning every word, because she’d had relationships before, had been in love before, but she’d never known it could be like this. “It’s good.” 

“Good.” He kissed her forehead then, seemed content to leave it at that.

Not so Kristen. Turning in his arms, she flicked the heat off under the skillet, moving it off the ring blindly before wrapping her arms around his neck and opening her mouth to his. He responded enthusiastically, lifting her off her feet, his hands moving to the buttons of the shirt, making short work of them. 

The eggs were ruined so he ended up buying her breakfast, wearing a very wrinkled shirt that smelled like her, but he assured her that he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Kristen agreed.


End file.
